


November

by Kat182



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU - Alternative Universe, Angst, Blood, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat182/pseuds/Kat182
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU story where Mickey and Ian are strangers.<br/>Mickey is the leader of the Milkovich gang. They're so bored, they want to find a faggot's ass to kick out. They find a kid, a redhead, and they decide he deserves a lesson.<br/>A real, cruel lesson. The kid is Ian.</p><p>I needed to repost this, because now all the mistakes I hope they've been corrected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	November

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've found a beta-reader. She's great, she's very patient and I thank her so much. As I said, I needed to repost this and I really hope that now all the mistakes have been corrected.  
> This story contains rape, violence, blood and if you don't like, don't read. I'm warning you, because maybe you won't like what you'll read, if you decide to continue.  
> I hope you like it, let me know if you do.

**Prologue**

Chicago, Saturday night, midnight. It was November. The street was empty, people were locked up in a local drinking, fucking, and throw in some corner all that they had been drinking.  
It was one of those typical nights that seemed almost infinite, when the night could never end. But it would have had an end, everything always had an end, even if it has been beautiful.  
All good things come to an end. The ugly ones don’t, those sometimes live forever. 

"I’m getting tired, I’m fucking bored!," Iggy exclaimed with a snort.  
“Yeah, man, you’re damn right,” Mickey said grinning, “we’ve to find a faggot’s ass to kick out”.  
“There’s one over there, look at him.” Joey affirmed, smiling cruelly and licking his cracked lips like he couldn’t wait anymore.  
“The redhead? What if he isn’t a faggot?,” Iggy asked, sliding his sharp knife from the pockets of his jeans.  
“He’s just an unlucky boy,” the other replied, starting to walk down the street.  
They laughed out, but Mickey didn’t. Their laughter were strong, harsh. Mickey’s dark, blue gaze was focusing on the kid with the red hair.  
 _“What the fuck is wrong with me?,” Mickey thought, “he’s just a stupid faggot”_.  
“Guys, he’s just a kid. The other one over there seems such a fag,” Mickey trying to shift the focus to someone else that wasn’t him, but at the same time he did want to kill him.  
“Jeez, Mick, if you want we can kick them both, it could be more funny than ever,” Joey laughed more harshly.  
Joey was twirling his bat in the air, slashing it in pieces. It was cold, heavy air, like them it belonged to the night.  
They were like rats. Rats of the night.  
“Do you’ve your gun, right?,” Joey asked to Mickey with a smile.  
“Yeah, man, but I don’t need it,” Mickey replied firmly.  
“You’re sure?” Joey was grinning like a greedy wolf.  
“I’m the badass here, I don’t need a fucking gun,” Mickey literally spat out.  
“That’s why we respect you,” Joey nodded.  
"Everybody’s ready for the damn party?," he asked then with a wicked smile.  
“Iggy and I, we can block him in that alley, and you?,” Joey used the bat to gesture.  
“And you let me have all the fun?” Mickey replied with a fake smile, pulling a cigarette from the half-empty pack and positioning it between the pale, chapped lips he then lit it, inhaling deeply. Running a hand over his face he then said: “I don’t know if I can have fun with that kid, I want a real fag to beat and I want to look at him bleed until he dies.” Joey looked at Mickey curiously.  
“You don’t like him?,” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he lit his own cigarette.

“It’s not just our kind of target, we can find better and we could enjoy ourselves so much more,” Mickey affirmed smirking.  
“Come on, make a bet and see how much time he can stand before starts to cry and call his slutty mommy!,” Iggy proposed emphatically.  
Joey and Iggy were delighted, but Mickey wasn’t.  
There was something about that kid that blocked him from wanting beaten him up. Mickey didn’t ever give a fuck who he would beat, or how they pray to the Milkovichs because they want them to stop doing what they’re doing. For him all faggots were the same. The same shit. The kind of shit that you can never stop shovelling away.  
Terry Milkovich, his father, had taught them that all gays were shit: if they had killed someone, they would have done a favour to humanity. Terry Milkovich was always right.  
Mickey knew. What Mickey didn’t know was why the hell he wanted to keep alive that stupid, redhead kid.  
He wasn’t a fucking hero. He didn’t care about anyone, not even himself, no-one except his little sister Mandy. The others could all die.  
Iggy and Joey were ready, but Mickey wasn’t.  
“Take him, block him in the alley and hold him because he doesn’t have to move a single muscle,” Mickey ordered in a firm tone, making another puff of smoke, and then putting out the cigarette under the sole of the shoes.  
Iggy and Joey looked at each other in agreement and started to gather like hungry beasts.  
Mickey pressed a hand to his forehead, covered his eyes for a moment. He wished he couldn’t see and he couldn’t hear, but he had to. He was a true man and fags had to all be slaughtered.  
 _“Let’s do it in a hurry, no matter what we do with that kid I want to do it quickly and then let it go,” he found himself thinking._  
Iggy and Joey had carried out his orders, the boy was stuck against the damp and cold wall.  
“If you scream, he cuts your tongue or your throat or both,” Joey explained intimidatingly, pointing to his friend armed with a knife.  
Iggy gritted his teeth: “Burn him with the cigarette, maybe this faggot might like it”.  
Mickey faced the boy with red hair and looked him straight in the eye: he didn’t tremble, but the light in his eyes did. It was shaking with fear.  
Iggy unlaced the redhead's pants and let them fall along with the boxers. Joey roared like a lion and swung his baseball bat: “Face the wall, now we’ll give you a lesson you will never forget”.  
The stranger and unarmed boy’s eyes met for a moment those of Mickey’s: green and blue, a bright green and a blue as dark and deep as an ocean, as a night.  
“He’s a little bit scared!” Joey laughed out harshly, sliding his bat between his legs.  
“Rape him, Mick, you’ll be the first of us: the honor is only yours,” he said with a devilish grin.  
“Show him what a real man is supposed to do,” he continued to say, with his rough voice.  
“Teach him a fucking lesson, why not?” Mickey replied, faking another smile.  
Mickey dropped his pants. He placed his palms on the cold wall and he positioned his hard cock between the boys buttocks. He was ready to fuck him, ready for that. The boy wasn't ready, although, no one really cared about him.  
"Sorry," Mickey only said in feeble whisper before penetrating him.  
That was all he had to say, it was all he could say. He did it as slow as he could, while Iggy and Joey were looking at him, grinning, and getting ready for their turn.  
A part of Mickey wouldn't want to do it. Another part of Mickey, despite everything, wanted to do it. Mickey loved to fuck, to fight and to destroy. It was what he did best, whether it was of things or people. Everything and everyone could be destroyed.  
The boy's body was fucking rigid, he was immobile, but his ass was so tight and so well wrapped around his cock.  
Iggy and Joey laughed, Mickey was continuing to fuck him.  
"What a silent whore we've here," Joey commented with another laugh, "ungrateful bitch you are!".  
"Don't say a word or they'll do worse," Mickey whispered in the boy’s ear, so absurdly soft considering his cock was totally buried in him. 

It was then that the sound of the sirens of the police car filled the night.  
"Fuck off!” Joey yelled angrily.  
Mickey slid out of the boy, quickly pulling on his pants.  
"Hit him before we go!" Iggy urged, "he deserves it!".  
And Joey did it without any hesitation. With his baseball bat. He took the redhead from the hair, pulled him to the ground with a kick and the bat crushed down his stomach. Blood, red blood, as red as the color of his hair. Blood, blood and more blood. The boy fell back on himself aching, moaning and his eyes met Mickey's for the last time.  
Mickey wouldn't have forgotten him. The boy couldn't forget Mickey because it had been done too badly, too boundless of an evil to be forgotten. The pain so great you can't forget, it will eat you from the inside piece by piece.


End file.
